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by KidcalledAiden



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Can be romantic or platonic, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, First Aid, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Non-Consensual Groping, Past Abuse, Tags Are Hard, You Decide, grammar is difficult, i can't spell, read the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KidcalledAiden/pseuds/KidcalledAiden
Summary: There was a tall thing next to him, it looked like a coat hanger or something, it had a bag on it, which had a tube hanging out of it. He followed it with his eyes, and he noticed that it was connected into his arm.Everything was white around him, clean and tidy. He looked around more to see someone sitting beside his bed.Who is that guy?
Relationships: Biffa/Xisuma, Xisuma/Biffa
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags

Biffa turned around a corner, off the main road into a smaller ally. His right hand was at his side, resting on his gun, other lazily hanging beside him. 

He looked around, he tried to at least, but after the well lit main street his eyes weren't used to the darkness.

He waited for his sight to brighten up to a level where he could see, and looked around. He saw a body lying on the ground. He immediately rushed to it, placing his hand to his wrist to check if he had a pulse. His hand got sticky with what he could only guess was blood, that was when he realized the bloody glass shards laying around, the broken beer bottle, and most importantly the many cuts on the guy's left wrist. 

He decided to check his breathing rather than his pulse, noting that he was still breathing, luckily. He wanted to call the ambulance, but he realised that the only chance of the guy surviving was if he immediately tended his wounds, no matter how poorly. 

His ability to act quickly and efficiently in cases of emergency had developed at his time as a soldier, one skill he was weary happy to have right now.

No easily accessible first-aid boxes were near, so the best he could too is to try to stop the bleeding. He took off the guy's shoelaces with extreme speed, and tied it around high up his arm to toggle the blood flow for now. That can't stay there too long he made a quick mental note, and then focused on the cuts.

He took out his switchblade, and cut off a piece of the leg of his uniform. He didn't want to damage it much, but he couldn't use his jacket or the guy's sweater, he needed those to avoid hypothermia in the chilly night. If his body was focused on keeping him alive he wouldn't have the energy to produce much heat.

He made a fairly efficient compression bounding, at least it would hopefully last for enough.

He called the ambulance, telling them his exact location, the severity of the wounds and anything they asked.

They will be here in 10 minutes. Lucky.

Now that the intensity of the situation had faded a bit, he could think of what had happened.

He still watched over his patient, covering him in his jacket and lifting his arm up, also taking off the shoelace. 

He stood up, and looked around, scanning the area. He noticed the cigar beside the guy, he must've dropped it in the middle of what he was doing. He smelled it, weed. Marijuana, he thought but he wasn't sure. 

Says a lot about the guy to be honest. Also, what was he exactly doing? In a dark alleyway, smoking weed, cutting his arms with a piece of broken glass. He started to feel sorry for him.

He checked his pulse again, this time at his neck. It was still beating, very faint and weak, but still alive. He hoped the ambulance would arrive soon.

***

When X woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he didn't really feel his body too much.

Was he dead?

Also, everything was really bright, it almost hurt his eyes.

Was he in heaven? There was not fucking way he'd go to heaven after what he did.

But then where was he? 

Soon, he figured he must be in a hospital, and alive. He didn't know whether he should be happy or not about it yet.

So he looked around. He was in a bed, between silky white cowers, a nice blanket and pillows.

There was a tall thing next to him, it looked like a coat hanger or something, it had a bag on it, which had a tube hanging out of it. He followed it with his eyes, and he noticed that it was connected into his arm. 

Weird, he didn't feel pain.

He scanned the area more, white curtains, some sort of machine next to him, and a police officer sitting next to in a chair.

Wait a police officer?

"Am I getting arrested?" He didn't really notice he said that out loud, but he didn't really care, he was going to ask it anyways.

The policeman stirred, lifting up his head and staring at him.

"Wh- no, why would you be arrested?" 

That was a good question, X really didn't think about that. 

"I dunno... I smoked weed" he declared, almost like he was going to prove that he was gonna get arrested.

The officer laughed then shook his head. "No, that isn't in the picture now" 

Hmm. Then why was he here, sitting next to his bed?

"Then why are you here?"

The man seemed to be thinking for a while, before realising he was asked something.

"What?"

"You said I wasn't getting arrested. Then why are you here?"

"Oh" he seemed to be lost in his mind for a moment before he answered. 

"Well, the police checked and you didn't really have a relative that we could contact, so I thought I'd stay here until you wake up"

A small "oh" left X's lips. It was true he didn't have relatives. He never knew his grandparents, the only aunt he had had died in a car accident a year ago, and both of his parents had passed away way earlier. 

Technically he still had his brother, but xe was wanted by the police for having killed like 7 men, so xe definitely wasn't showing up.

He smiled at the thought of his brother. They had chosen very different lifestyles since their parents died, but in retrospect, X wasn't so sure that he had chosen that much better than his brother, Xenon, or in his nickname Ex, Evil Xisuma.

Despite Ex not being that good of a big sibling in his life, they were always close. Xe had always cared for him, sometimes sending him some sort of package or present to show that he didn't forget.

Of course with the life xe chose , xe was always on the run, never really having the time to talk or hang out with xir brother but somehow their friendship was still almost intact.

But that doesn't help the fact that xe hasn't been able to visit him in the hospital, which sucked.

"You didn't have to," he answered the man's question. He really didn't have to stay, but X was secretly thankful for it.

"But I wanted to. You seemed like you needed someone, so I stayed"

X almost started crying. His words had put an unbelievable warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest, something he hasn't felt in ages and it nearly made him sob. 

The policeman had probably read the emotions from his face, judging by the words he said.

"It's okay, you can cry, I don't judge, it's better to let it out sometimes"

And X cried, and told him everything. What happened when his parents died, how he lost almost everything. How his aunt has emotionally abused him. How his life turned upside down when she had passed away. 

How he got a job in a shitty restaurant on the poor side of the city. How he was used to men groping him while he couldn't do anything about it or he would get sacked. How he had shared an apartment with a roommate. How he had to leave because he couldn't pay enough for it. Despite that his roommate, Keralis had let him pay later, but he realized that he wouldn't be able to pay so he left. How drugs became his only way of dealing with emotions.

How that night he had shouted at a guest for grabbing his ass, and how he got fired.

How he decided to end it all that night.

He really didn't expect the guy to stay there and listen to him ranting for hours, but he did, and X was incredibly thankful for it.

"If you don't have a place, do you want to stay at mine? I have a small apartment rented and if you want, we can share it, you know after you get better"

X never ever had expected this. Holyshit. 

"If you don't mind"

If X was at his right mind, he would have probably refused the offer, but he was still high on pain meds (and whatever shit he had smoked) so he dubiously accepted.

"It's settled then." He smiled. "By the way my name is Biffa"

"Xisuma"

"I know"

"What what?" Has slipped out X's mouth.

"I'm a police officer"

"Oh right, sorry"

***

A few weeks had gone by since X was released from the hospital and moved in with Biffa. Okay, moving in was a big word, more like he agreed to stay at his apartment, and eat the food Biffa put in front of him. 

X almost felt bad for using him this much, even if Biffa always told him that he didn't mind, that he was happy that he could help X. But since his suicide attempt Xisuma didn't have emotions. He was numb 0-24, he felt like a ghost. He hung out, existed but had no feelings whatsoever. But the mean voices in his head had fallen quiet too, for which he was extremely thankful. 

It was some sort of desperate coping attempt from his brain, if emotions cause pain, they don't feel any. 

But of course things weren't that easy. Even if his emotions weren't hurting him, other things did. Mainly his addiction, which he picked up during his days as a waiter. He couldn't allow himself to snap on anyone, so he drowned his anger in drugs. Illegal drugs, which took away all of his earned money which he could have used to get a better life, but when he realised that he was far too deep in the rabbithole.

But now of course he didn't have access to it, which made his days a living nightmare on its own. He didn't want to bother Biffa, he had work and honestly X should be thankful for him for what he already did for X, he really shouldn't bother him.

So the first few weeks of him staying at Biffa's was sitting on his bed hugging himself and crying.

He sat on the mattress of the bed, blankets and pillows messily thrown around him. He pulled his legs up into his chest and cried and whimpered and weeped into his palms. It was just too much, the pain overwhelming his body, he needed, he craved his dose. His eyes were probably red from crying and rubbing them all day. He probably looked pathetic but he didn't care, all he cared about was that he needed his drugs. The closest thing he had was cigar, and which wasn't the best but it helped to ease the pain.

But slowly, slowly the pain lessened and he was on his way to recovery. After what had been like two weeks, most of the ache had subsided, only leaving back the need, but not the pain. Which he could control with cigar. He knew it was extremely unhealthy and wrong, because he couldn't stop. It was hard. He would sneak down the streets and buy himself the cheapest ones he could get, from his remaining money.

Biffa didn't say a word about it, for which X was thankful and not at the same time. He knew that Biffa respected him but he also hoped that maybe if he would scold him for it, he could get off.

***

X sat on the couch, eyes closed, a cigar clipped between two of his fingers, his hand hanging off the side of the couch. He seemed unnaturally lean, even if he was around a head smaller than Biffa, around 170cm. (5'7 feet according to google) It was probably because of him being extremely thin and scrawny, like he hadn't eaten for weeks. Truth to be told, X really didn't have an appetite, but he always ate most of what Biffa made for him. White/greyish smoke fell from his lips, flying upwards the ceiling.

Biffa grew used to his smoking, even if he didn't really like how the smell had stuck into the furniture of the living room. Yet he still didn't bring himself to care.

He looked calm, quiet, as they laid there, something like the peace before the storm, but not really. As Biffa thought about it, it was more like the peace after the storm. When the wind, the rain, the lightning and the thunder had already destroyed what they could, piles of broken branches of sticks were already under the trees, the tiles were already swept away with the wind and it was peaceful. And the time for recovery.

X was still numb, spending most of his time alone in his (Biffa's) room, mostly doing nothing, but he was visibly getting better. They didn't usually talk too much, but when they did it was mostly Biffa who spoke, telling him about his life in the army. Turns out he actually knew X's brother, Xenon from his times back then. 

***

After a month of X moving in, they slowly warmed up to eachother. X had sometimes put some effort to talk to Biffa, mostly about music. As Biffa had learned X was very passionate about music, mostly metal. When they got to the subject, Biffa would listen to X rambling about albums bands and performers for hours. Apparently when X was a young teen he was actually playing electric guitar himself, and he seemed like he knew a lot about it. Biffa didn't wasn't too deep in music, but he enjoyed hearling X talking about it. He seemed so alive, his tone seemed much more colouful, so passionate.

So one day Biffa came home with a guitar and an amplifier. As he saw the bright smile on X's face he knew it was worth it. 

After that, listening to X playing had become like a night routine. X was incredibly talented, withe the way his hands were synchronized, the way his fingers scooted on the strings, it always amazed Biffa. Biffa never was good at playing any instrument, it just wasn't his thing, but he always enjoyed listening to it. 

***

X only realized how numb he was in the past few days when it started fading. And he didn't miss it. He started feeling more alive than he ever did, and he often noticed that he was smiling at things again.

It was an almost completely new feeling, being able to have and live his emotions. He only understood how lifeless he was when he started to live. 

This didn't mean he was happy all the time, far from it. He still often felt completely and utterly rubbish, often so low that he barely managed to get out of bed and do anything. There were days when he would be in his room on the brink of sleeping or awake, wishing that the day would pass, but those were emotions too.

And there were days, when he felt almost perfect, when he would cook, do some housework and practice on his guitar in his free time. He lived for those days.

Whenever he could, he wanted to help Biffa who basically adopted him into his home, gave him food, a room, and bed to sleep in, who also gave him support, who was there every time he needed him. X didn't know how he deserved him.

***

It was a year ago that Biffa found X on the verge of dying in a dark alleyway. Since then his life had been completely changed, for the better. He found a home, a home in Biffa, someone who had been there in his life for him when it was the hardest, and with whom he wanted to share the happiest parts too.

X was happy where he was right now, and excited for what the future may hold for him. He wanted to explore his life, its opportunities. He wanted to have his future with Biffa.

Sure there were still days which sucked, days he almost questioned wether it was worth it, but those were oppressed by the times he would smile, when he would feel happy and content with his life. 

And he knew Biffa will always be by his side.

***

X was currently cuddled into Biffa's side on the couch, eyes fixated on the movie that was playing on the screen. Biffa had an arm around his shoulder, unconsciously pulling his hand through his hair, twisting the strands around his fingers. Xisuma jumped at a sudden move, quickly calming into Biffa's arms. Things were truly perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, I took me like a week to write :3  
> Comments are very appreciated, tell me what you think of it, constructive criticism is welcome!


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